Fine Lines
by AllShadesOfGreen
Summary: There was a fine line between fiction and reality. But in a world where everyone is against you and your only weapon is a smile, sometimes you just need help from the fictional characters that you know will never be real. (multi-fandom warning, includes Sonic the Hedgehog, My Little Pony, Hetalia, Plants Vs Zombies, and Harvest Moon)
1. Chapter 1

Fine Lines

Summary: There was a fine line between fiction and reality. But when your reality gets depressing, you would wish that fictional characters were there for you. Margaret was saved. How? Because that fine line that kept fiction and reality apart bent the rule.

Author's Note: This is a multi-fandom fiction. At least five were included, and are highly unlikely to even get together. Blame my insecurities and inner demons, I've had enough unjustified prejudice and loneliness to last me a lifetime.

Disclaimer: I do not own **Plants Vs Zombies** , **My Little Pony** , **Harvest Moon** , **Sonic The Hedgehog** , or **Hetalia**. They belong to their respective owners.

Margaret Bennet's life was complicated. She was a writer, but she was not given any sort of recognition whatsoever. Sure, the occasional pointing out the smallest mistakes reviews were there, but other than that, nothing. Constructive criticism might have been nice.

She had a family that doesn't support her. Hell, when she chose her career she got berated for it. They wanted her to be something big- supermodel, physician, astronaut - ANYTHING other than being a stupid little author.

'You'll get nowhere with that career,' said her aunt.

'You'll destroy your whole life!' mocked her bothers.

'What a disappointment.' Was what her Grandfather made of it.

And the insults went on.

She wasn't sure if her friends were for real or not. They didn't support her either, and they were indifferent when they forgot about her. Sure, because in their circle, they had many more friends. What was one of them when you can have someone better?

'Oops, sorry, I guess I forgot.' Was what they would say when they went without her.

'There's a fun group, why don't you head over there?' They pointed over to the bullies who had even worse in store for her.

'All full!' In the cafeteria, at lunchtime, she was forced to eat in the toiletries.

But all through it, she had a smile on her face; a fake one that could fool many. Showing off her teeth to the world, and her true self brooded behind them.

Actually, she wasn't sure if her smile was that convincing.

Really, it was either she was a professional at it, or no one cared.

No one bothered to ask her if she needed help with the books she carried to the classroom. 'No, I'm alright,' she would say when she clearly wasn't. They left her there, right before one of the higher-ups knocked her books down.

No one noticed that she was starving herself with no food when her parents forgot to give her allowance. 'H-hey, could I have some of that?' she asked, but they told her to get lost- and accused her of already having ate. She refused to let her parents know this for fear of prejudice.

When she drew, she drew magnificently. In her eyes, it was like magic. 'Hey, hey! Want to see?' And then it would look more and more like junk when the other kids were done with it.

In this world, it was terrible. No one liked her, no one gave her the support that she needed, and then she lost confidence in herself.

Her big problem, you ask?

She refused to show it. She didn't let the world know that she was suffering in silence. She was sure the rest of the world wouldn't care.

The only thing that the world knew about was her smiles.

Wrong beliefs. They turned her into a shell of what she was supposed to be.

They turned her into nothing.

All they knew about were her fake smiles, and the masked, unrealistic joy she let out.

But, in a world where the rest of it drove her to the breaking point, her one trace of sanity was placed into the bittersweet hands of fiction.

There was a fine line between fiction and reality, Margaret knew that. She learned to not delve into it too far- she would never find that silver lining of hope ever again if she did.

She found comfort into the games she played, and the TV shows that she watched. Margaret would hide it from her parents that she stayed up late in her retreat, defeating zombies with mutant plants, running a farm, or speeding through the checkered lands of Seaside Hill.

Whenever she came home, and she wanted to cry, she would turn on the television in her room, and watch brightly colored ponies learn about the many secrets of friendship, or see personified countries make bumbling fools of themselves.

Fiction was her one trace of sanity in this judgmental world. Her sweet escapade. The one place where she can truly be happy.

And it really was outstanding how fiction talked her out of suicide countless times.

Even though Margaret had to accept that fiction could never be real. Not in forever. Not in this life.

But sometimes, she would imagine what it would be like it could be real. She knew for sure that they won't be as horrible as the real people in her life.

She could see herself defending her parent's lawn from the zombies with the plants.

She dreamt that Twilight Sparkle and her friends would come and maybe teach a thing or two to her about friendship.

She envisions herself farming along with Claire and pestering their neighbor Gray.

She wondered what it would be like to sit on Sonic's back while he sped through the countless hills and loops of Eggman's base.

She thought that it would be amazing if she ever meet the hamburger-loving hero that was her nation, America.

Wouldn't that be nice?

Throughout surviving her days, she clung onto the childish belief that they would come to life and be with her.

Simply catching a glimpse of her fictional fantasies- maybe that would coerce her to smile a real smile?

At the end of the day, Margaret would shake her head, and remind herself that that fantasy would never be reality. Then she would return to the harshness of the real world.

After all, there was no way that the fine line could be broken…

Author's Note: First multi-chapter about a multi-fandom. Huh. It's amazing how this was built on my insecurities.

I would like to address whatever drove me to write this fiction. First off, my depression. Then, uh, remember 'The Five People You Meet In Heaven'? I meant the parody, you could check it out in my Favorites list, it's awesome. Lastly, Radwimps Order Made. I cannot stop crying at that one, and I stopped crying at the other APH MADs.

I hope you enjoyed, and the next chapter will be up sometime else.


	2. Chapter 2

Fine Lines – Chapter 2

Beams of sunlight littered the lands as the clouds obscured most of the sun's rays. The scattered rays of light were a peculiar sight- all over the place and the barren hills creating patterns of them. The people beneath the strange sky payed no mind, however. They were all too busy wondering what was in store for them today.

One of those people was Margaret. Her strawberry-blonde hair cascading down her back as she climbed down the stairs, she thought about the things she could write later, after her dreaded homework.

Making her way towards the kitchen, she met her brother, Andrew. She did her best to smile. "Good Morning, Andrew." She received a grunt in response. Now she wondered why her mornings always began this way.

Margaret sat at the buffet-sized table, keeping her smile. When she caught her parents' watchful eye, she suppressed a nervous shiver. "Good Morning, Mother, Father."

"And a Good Morning to you too, Margaret." Edwin Bennet greeted in response with an approving nod. "Good to see that you still know your manners at least," Then he returned to reading his newspaper.

Margaret inwardly cringed at that, her smile faltering. There, again with the daily criticism. It made her depressed whenever she tried to think about it too much, so she tried to shake off the comment.

Margaret's family- the Bennets- were high-class. She was born wealthy, and lived in what everyone else would describe as comfort. She really could have anything she asked for with a clap of her hand- if only her parents would allow it. While the Bennets were wealthy, they didn't like flaunting their wealth. Not snobbish, just really hard-working people with decent jobs.

That was how they got their wealth, and they intend to pass it on to their children so that it would not falter. As a result they made their children go to the most prestigious schools they could find, and made them practice the art of accountancy.

Margaret defied that dream, or at least, she tried to.

When she told her parents she wanted to become a writer, her life as an inside outcast began. Her parents became stricter and colder to her, and without them she was being mocked by the rest of her family.

They thought they broke the writing spirit in her indifferent violet eyes, but no. Well, it was their own fault that they didn't bother taking away her games and TV.

So when she walked out of the mansion an hour later, clad in her Washington State uniform, she continued to think of all the things she could write.

Life at school was tough for Margaret. It made her think like she was being plagued by verbal wars everywhere she went. They don't know what she goes through every day.

'And they don't have to,' she thought, putting on her mask of a smile as she walked through the door to homeroom.

Silently, unnoticed, she walked towards her seat, stationed in the back next to the window. Margaret was grateful for her position in class- that way she could be less prone to the sneers her classmates would sometimes throw her.

The classes seemed like a blur to Margaret, so fast, but forcing the ones who listen to understand what they were trying to teach. Lunch time, it was, and she was eager to get out early so that she would not end up sitting alone in the toilets again.

Grabbing a tray, she placed her usual slice of apple pie, salad, and glass of orange juice on it. Margaret quickly went over to one of the many still-spare tables, and placed the notes under her arm next to her. She then started to jot the ideas she thought of this morning onto them. This was a way of easing her thoughts, a way to remind her to not break down in front of everyone.

Just then, a trio of girls walked over to where she was. Margaret payed no mind to them, and she continued to eat and write.

"Um, hey writer girl!" One of them yelled at her, starling her and making her draw a large scribble on her notes. Great, on top of being bullied, her notes were now ruined…

Margaret's fearful eyes looked at the three girls before her. The first one looked satisfied at the shock she gave Margaret, and smirked.

"This is our table, in case you didn't know." She said, brandishing her hand against the table. "Or are you just so nerdy you couldn't notice?"

Margaret whimpered. "S-sorry, I'll leave,"

"You better. And take your lame notes with you." One of the girls accompanying her shoved Margaret's food in the poor girl's arms, startling her again. A reluctant hand reached out for the notes, before the girl held it further for her to reach. The girl put a finger to her chin.

"You know what, I think I'll keep these notes with me," She said, and Margaret felt a flash of fear go through her.

Setting her food aside, she tried reaching for the notes. "N-no, please give it back!" she cried, but the girl's cronies held her back.

"Hmm… 'What if the mythical fairies that we thought never existed came to life?' Ha! What sort of fantasy world are you living in?" she read the notes, line by line, eventually catching the attention of the crowds around her. Margaret gave up struggling in the girls' hold, and subjected to her humiliating fate.

When the girl was done mocking her writings, she threw them at Margaret's limp feet. "You're even more pathetic than I thought," The girl held up Margaret's face by the chin. "You think that someone's going to notice you through this half-assed crap? Well news flash! You're better off being the next lunch lady,"

And with that, the girls left, and the crowd turned away. Nobody even bothered to check up on her.

With a tear rolling down her cheek, she took her notes and ran out of the room.

There was a reason why Margaret Bennet didn't want to stand out much. Too much standing out brings too much responsibility.  
In the Bennet house, she felt like she was alone, even with all the family surrounding her. Can she even call them family anymore? They seemed more like a dictatorship than anything.

But she had no choice but to follow in her parent's shoes, so she put on a smile and stood out. She had to act like nothing got to her. So act, she did.

When she came home that afternoon, she was smiling. No one would suspect her little show at Washington State.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she faced her father. "I've come home, father."

Her father answered with a nod. "How was school, Margaret?"

Feeling the need to lie, she answered. "It was fine,"

Edwin took the bait. "Good to know. Now run along, and I shall see you at dinner later."

"Yes father," After escaping her father's sight, she made a beeline to her room. Shutting the door gently behind her, she sighed, and finally, she could let out the few tears she's been holding back since her little incident.

She sat on her bed, head in her hands. Her hair obscured most of her vision, and her breathing was slow. In her head, she whispered, 'They don't need to know, as long as I have my pen, everything will be alright.'

Quite a literal statement, that was. When she got over herself, she took a piece of paper, and she started repairing the notes she had been working on earlier.

Up until now, even after all these years, she still can't help but wonder why the rest of the world can't see who she was.

After dinner and bidding her family a good night (to which she received no return greeting for), Margaret once again retired to her room.

It really has been a long day today, so Margaret tucked into bed early. The last thing she saw before closing her eyes was a figurine of Cattail.

She has no idea what was going to be in store for her that night.

Author's Note: The multi-fandom plot begins the next chapter. And wow, am I severe with the bullying. Funny thing is I'm listening to an instrumental of Vorwärts March while writing this author's note…

Sorry, and I do promise you that the plot will come up soon… maybe next chapter. I think you may have a vague idea of what happens next.

Disclaimer: I do not own all the aforementioned fandoms, or anything in them. All I own is this plot.


End file.
